


Twenty-Nine Days

by SlayerOfSunnydale



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlayerOfSunnydale/pseuds/SlayerOfSunnydale
Summary: When the demon Whistler tells Buffy an apocalypse is coming and her death is the only way to stop it she sees an opportunity to make sure Spike knows she really did love him before its to late.
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Kudos: 35





	Twenty-Nine Days

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Elysian Fields.  
> Written for the Elysian Fields 2020 Secret Santa event.
> 
> Disclaimer: the Buffyverse and all elements of this story belonging to it are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Twentieth Century Fox. Only the words of this story and its storyline as well as any original characters and story elements belong to the author.
> 
> Many thanks to the wonderful Aspasia for betaing this story.
> 
> Do not post to any other sites without permission from the author.

Buffy couldn’t wait to get home and slip into bed. Her patrol had been an eventful one: she’d killed seven vampires and a m’fashnik tonight, and now she was tired and sore and her back ached. Nevertheless, as she walked up the steps of her apartment building a sense of anxiety filled her, and that was never a good thing. Being a slayer she had some pretty good Spidey senses and the closer she got to home the more she was sure something was going on. 

So when she reached her door she was alarmed but not surprised to find it slightly ajar. Normally she would assume Dawn had left it open but she was spending the night with a friend from school. Buffy’s slayer instincts kicked into high gear as she pulled the dagger from her waistband and pushed the door the rest of the way open. Careful too not to alert whoever might be waiting for her inside, she pressed the door closed behind her.

Nothing in her entryway or kitchen was out of place but she kept her guard up as she searched the other rooms in her apartment, looking for the intruder. She found him sitting in a recliner in her living room. 

To her surprise, she recognized him. It was the demon Whistler. She had only met him once, she didn’t like him, and she wasn’t happy to see him. Unfortunately, he was a servant of the Powers so she figured she’d better listen to him instead of killing him. He was here for a reason and most likely it wasn’t good. 

Scratch that. It definitely wasn’t good. The last time he was here they had been on the verge of an apocalypse and she’d had to kill her first love to stop it. He was all annoying and way too cheerful then. This time he looked positively grim. She didn’t know what it took to make this guy look like that but it couldn’t be good.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, startling him from the magazine he was reading. 

He tossed it to the side and looked up at her. “We need to talk. I’ll cut straight to the chase because we have a lot to discuss. There’s an apocalypse kid and we’ve gotta stop it.”

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. “So what’s with the grim? This is hardly the first apocalypse there’s been, and whatever it is, we’ll deal.”

Whistler waved towards the couch. “Might as well sit down kid. There’s a lot we have to discuss.”

Buffy did as he suggested, but repeated slightly annoyed, “you didn’t answer my question. What’s what with this apocalypse? The last time I saw you we were mid apocalypse and you were all sunshine and roses, so what’s with the long face?”

“This one is different.” The demon took a deep breath and looked Buffy straight in the eye. “Because this time Slayer, you’re the problem. The thing is kid you aren’t supposed to be here.”

That caught Buffy off guard. She was expecting some big bad monster she would fight, or maybe a dark sorcerer, or even a resurgence of the First. She was not expecting to be told that she was the cause of the end of the world.

“What do you mean I’m not supposed to be here? Do you mean the whole thing with weakening the slayer line so the first rose up? Because we kinda fixed that a few months ago. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. Lotsa newbie slayers running around these days. We’ve been having a hell of a time finding and training them all.”

“That’s . . . what I’m talking about, but only indirectly. Kid, you were fated to die on Glory’s tower. You never should have come back. The fact that you did has been causing problems ever since.”

Buffy blinked. “Like the First Evil?”

“For one . Another would be Tara Maclay’s death. Did you know that Tara and Willow were supposed to go on and get married, live happily ever after?”

Now Buffy was feeling a bit more than confused. She was also feeling angry. He was blaming Tara’s death and Willow’s fall on her? That was not okay.

“I loved Tara,” Buffy said, her hands tightening into clenched fists. “So you better have a pretty good reason for blaming her death on me.”

Whistler held up his hands in a ‘please don’t kill the messenger’ gesture. “Nobody’s sayin’ it’s your fault kid. We’re not blaming you. You had no say in being dragged back. Not your fault she died . . . but your existence is the reason she’s dead.”

“How?” asked Buffy, hands unclenching, but only slightly. 

“Simple. She died because Warren was trying to kill you. He wouldn’t have been trying to kill you at all if you were dead.”

“Oh.” Buffy wished that wasn’t so logical but she couldn’t find any way to argue the point. If she’d stayed dead then Tara would still be alive. Not only that but Willow would never have become Dark Willow. Instead, Tara and Willow would have had a long and happy marriage. Her existence had stolen that from them. She had stolen that from them.

“I’m sorry kiddo. I know it’s hard on you, but I needed to be sure I had your attention. Miss Maclay’s death is only one of many tragic events that are going to keep happening because you’re alive. I can give you specifics if you want, but I’d rather not. You’re innocent here, you had no say in being brought back, I don’t want you to beat yourself up.”

Again Buffy had no response except “Oh.” At first, she’d been ready to punch Whistler into next week for suggesting the world would be better off without her but he was making too much sense for her to stay angry at him. Now she was angry at herself. Tara had died because of her. Instead of marrying the love of her life, Willow had become a murderer because of her. Not to mention everyone who died because of the First Evil. She didn’t even want to know what other incidents Whistler was talking about.

“So you’re saying the world would be a better place if I were dead . . .”

“Honestly yeah . . .” said Whistler, a sorrowful look on his face. “I wish that wasn’t the case, but it is what it is.”

“Okay . . .” Buffy said. This was too much to process. Words had abandoned her entirely.

“And this stuff is just the pre-show. Fate doesn’t like you being here Buffy. You being alive is like a fire. This stuff will spread. More tragedies will happen, worse tragedies will happen until eventually, Earth becomes a hell dimension. That’s how bad it will get. Not today, not tomorrow, but by the end of the century at the latest. And then, not even the Powers will be strong enough to protect humanity from what’s coming.”

“Okay . . .” said Buffy. A feeling of shame hung on her now. She was supposed to save the world, protect humanity, and yet she was the source of the apocalypse. “So what are you saying? What can we do?” 

“There’s only one option. We have to turn back time. We’re going to send you back in time to before you died. Repeat it all. We'll fortify your soul against Osiris’ magic and all other possible avenues for resurrection. Your friends won’t be able to bring you back this time, no matter what they try.”

Buffy’s first thought in all this was for Dawn. If she went back and died on Glory’s tower again then all the bad of these last two years wouldn’t happen but it would also mean she had to leave Dawn again . . . It would mean Dawn had to grow up without a sister or a mother. She would be alone . . . Buffy’s heart ached at the thought but apparently if she didn’t do it the whole world would go to hell . . . literally. Buffy couldn’t let that happen.

Buffy’s second thought was one of relief. She was tired to the point of breaking. There was a reason Slayers died so young. Being the Slayer drained the life from you, damaged your soul in a way only heaven could heal. Buffy longed for the day she could rest at last.

Buffy’s third thought was one of hope. She could save Willow and Tara and they would get their happily ever after. None of the casualties of the war with the first would die either, and whatever else had gone wrong since she had been resurrected also would be averted. She knew Whistler said none of this was her fault but it was hard not to blame herself. This gave her a chance to make those wrongs right.

Buffy’s final thought was of Spike. Her vampire had really come through for her that last year. He had died a hero. He had saved the world. She’d told him she loved him but after everything that had happened, after she rejected him time and time again he believed that there was no chance she would ever love him. In the end, the only time she told him, he hadn’t believed her. That had become her biggest regret in life. At one time he had been so sure she had feelings for him too but then she had spent the next two years stomping on his heart again and again until he was sure she didn’t love him. She had been such an idiot then that she’d never realized she had, not until it was too late. The truth was she might not have loved him when he first confessed his feelings to her but by the time she died she did. She’d been in love with him ever since the day he risked his life to keep Dawn’s secret from Glory.

At that moment Buffy felt something warm inside her chest. She was going to have a second chance to tell Spike she loved him and this time she would make sure he believed her. She wouldn’t let him spend eternity thinking she didn’t.

“Okay,” she told Whistler. “How far back are you sending me?”

“I honestly didn’t think you’d take this so well kid. I expected a bit of anger at least.”

“Oh, I’m very angry,” Buffy told him. “I’m angry that my friends and family have suffered so much these last two years when it’s all going to be for nothing. I’m angry that I won’t ever get to see Dawn grow up. I’m angry that she won’t have me too take care of her. But I also understand that this is something that has to happen . . . I understand that I have to die.”

Whistler looked at her truly stunned. “You’re truly an incredible slayer but you're an even better person Buffy,” he said using her name for the first time ever. “I wish that this didn’t have to happen. If I’m being honest, I’m angry too. You deserve so much better than this, but this is the way it’s got to go. It’ll only be milliseconds before you died. You’ll already be unconscious as your body falls through the portal. One second you’ll be here, the next you’ll be in heaven again. We’re doing it like that so you don’t feel any pain.”

“No,” Buffy said firmly. “That’s not . . . not far enough back. There’s something I have to do first.”

“Look kid, if we send you further back you’ll have to go through all that drama with Glory again. Certain things will happen inevitably. Glory discovering Dawn, the knights attacking you in the desert, the spell is completed . . . and you’ll still have to jump from the tower. You’ll still have to die. It doesn’t matter how much you fight those things. It’s not even that we’re asking you to let them happen . . . they just will. It’s fate. That’s what this is all about right. You have to die and stay dead. That other stuff leading up to it? It has to happen too. Do you really wanna relive one of the darkest parts of your life, just to do one more thing?”

“Yes.” Buffy stated firmly. “This isn’t about trying to weasel out and live. I understand it all has to happen again. I don’t like it, but I’m not afraid to die. I’m kinda ready. But there’s one thing I need to do first. I need to let Spike know I love him. I can do that right? There’s nothing about fate preventing that is there?”

“No. In fact, both of you were fated to fall in love from the beginning. He was never fated to know because you would die too soon, but nothing will prevent you from telling him and nothing bad will happen if you do. And frankly kid, I might be sounding like a broken record but I hate that this has to happen. You deserve better. If being sent back a bit early so you can let him know you love him is what you need to be at peace with your death, we’ll do it. But I need to ask, are you sure you really want this? To get that bit of time with him and the others, even though you know what’s coming?”

“Yeah, Whistler, I am. It’s what I want.”

“Okay,” he said. “How far back do you want to go?”

“April 24th,” said Buffy. “April 24th, 2001. The day I fell in love with him.”

“Okay,” said Whistler. “Just so you know, we can put this off a little bit. Give you a day or two to say goodbye to your sister and your friends . . .”

“No. Let’s do it tonight,” Buffy said. “If I see Dawnie . . . it’ll just make leaving harder.”

“Okay,” said Whistler. He pulled out a small box. “We’ll send you back to May 24th, 2001. When you get there it will be exactly one hour after you rescued Spike from Glory’s and you’ll be surrounded by your friends and looking at the robot and saying how it isn’t a very good copy. Now when I open the box I’m holding it will be 2001. Are you ready, kid?”

“I am,” said Buffy.

“Good luck,” said Whistler quietly. He opened the box, a bright purple light filled the room, and then it was 2001.

____________________________________

  
  


Spike had known his unlife was over the minute Glory’s goons laid hands on him. If Glory didn’t kill him he knew Buffy would as revenge for betraying her little sis. Of course, Spike didn’t tell Glory anything but Buffy would never believe that and he knew it. So now he stretched out safe in his crypt, laying flat on the sarcophagus, and waited for Buffy to arrive. 

It took her longer than he had expected: nearly seven hours, and when she finally arrived it caught him entirely off guard. Not the fact that she arrived but the manner in which she did so. She didn’t kick down his crypt door and sweep in a blaze of righteous fury to end him. 

Instead, she knocked. 

Buffy Summers had knocked on his door.

Between the pain in his body, courtesy of Glory, and his surprise it took Spike a minute to answer.

Buffy knocked again. “Spike,” she said softly. “I’m coming in.” Ah, there she was: no asking permission, just a bit more courteous with her way of delivering demands. Spike smiled as much as his swollen face would allow. 

“I’m in here Slayer,” he said and waited for the inevitable end. It never came.

Buffy stepped into the crypt and came over to him and smiled. Buffy Summers was smiling at him. No . . . this had to be the bot, right? But the bot had been destroyed. No way they had fixed it. More importantly, he could smell Buffy and that scent was strong. Much stronger than the small lingering of her that the bot had from wearing Buffy’s stolen clothes. Spike could also hear Buffy’s heartbeat, one he had memorized perfectly. He could pick her heartbeat out of any crowd any day. But this presented him with a very confusing situation. Buffy Summers should be staking him right now but instead, she was smiling at him for possibly the first time ever.

How? Why?

“I’m not the robot if that’s what you're thinking.” Apparently, the girl had been reading his mind. “I just came by to thank you for protecting us, not telling Glory anything. That was pretty incredible.” 

Spike’s mouth fell open slightly. This was not the script he was following at all. Buffy had zero faith in him to do the right thing under any circumstances and there was absolutely no way she could have learned what went down at Glory’s penthouse before she got there.

“How did you . . .” Spike began lamely.

“Spike, can you sit up? We kinda need to talk.”

Spike groaned in pain, but slowly he lifted his aching body into a sitting position and threw his legs over one side of the grave. Buffy sat down next to him and he turned slightly to face her. 

Gently Buffy took his face in her hands, careful not to aggravate his injuries, and she looked into his eyes for a moment. Spike’s tired brain was working overtime to try and comprehend the situation he had found himself in. Buffy was looking at him in a way nobody ever had in his entire unlife. She was looking at him with warmth and tenderness in her gaze. She was looking at him with . . . no he didn’t dare think of her looking at him with that word. The only thing those thoughts could lead to was heartbreak. The girl would never love him back. She had made that very clear on more than one occasion.

The truth was Spike could barely reconcile the girl looking at him with the Buffy Summers he knew. If not for her smell, her pulse, her physical warmth and the aura of Slayer surrounding her . . . well even with her assurances to the contrary he would have believed it was the bot. But there was no way this was a robot. This was the genuine article . . . his slayer, but it was as though they’d stepped into an alternate reality where she actually lo . . . not using that word . . . where she didn’t hate him.

A long moment passed before Buffy finally broke the silence. “I know you didn’t betray us to Glory, Spike. I know because you told me before.”

Spike was momentarily rendered speechless, something that had only happened a handful of times in his very long life. When he finally regained the ability to speak the only response which came to him was “ungh?” 

Buffy smirked at him but there was sadness there too. “I’m Buffy, but I’m not your Buffy. Well not exactly. I guess your Buffy doesn’t exist anymore . . . I’ve sorta replaced her?” Spike was just processing that last statement and anger was beginning to seep into his mind (nobody could replace Buffy) when she clarified “I mean I’m still her, but her from the future and I’ve sorta traveled back in time, back to my younger body . . .” The anger abated. That was okay. She was still his Buffy, but the confusion didn’t go away.

“I don’t understand what you're talking about luv,” Spike said softly.

Buffy looked at him, a sad smile etched on her face. “No, I didn’t think you would. It’s sorta not easy to explain, but here goes . . .” She paused for a moment and searched Spike’s face. “Do you trust me, Spike?”

“Always.”

“Okay good . . . there are some things I have to tell you now and it’s not easy stuff . . . you won’t like it.”

Spike’s attention shot through the roof, and despite his injured body, his back straightened. “What are you talking about luv? What’s wrong?”

Buffy took a deep breath. “Like I said I’m Buffy from the future . . . 2003 to be specific, and I know that sounds crazy but let me explain,” she began nervously and then continued “Okay so I died.” 

Something came over Spike with those words . . . a mixture of panic and dread, but also self-hatred. The only real goal he had these days was to “make Buffy the first slayer to die old and happy,” but apparently he failed her. In his momentary panic, it didn’t even occur to him that Buffy from the future was very much alive and sitting right next to him.

“But I don’t stay dead . . . Willow and the others, they bring me back, using some seriously black mojo.” The feeling of dread dissipated but not the feeling of self-loathing. It was the damn Scoobies who saved her. He had still failed her. “Anyway about two and a half years pass, we have a couple more apocalypses. In 2003 the whole world is different. There are like a gazillion slayers, hardly any watchers, and Sunnydale is just gone . . . crater in the Earth. We have a whole big slayer organization, I live in Scotland, and everybody calls me ma’am these days.” A small smile had broken out on Buffy’s face as she described the new world order in 2003 but then it faded almost as quickly as it appeared. “But you aren’t there Spike.”

“Huh?” Spike wondered aloud. He would never leave her, not unless she forced him to, he was sure of that . . . which meant he must have died. Oh wow. That was an enormous realization to come flying out of nowhere. In two and a half years he would be dead. “I die?”

“Yeah,” said Buffy with a pained look on her face. “You die.”

“How?”

“A hero.”

“Oh . . .” Spike whispered. He had trouble imagining a future where he became a hero, much less died heroically. Died for Buffy or Dawn sure, in a heartbeat . . . but he got the sense she was speaking of more general white hattery.

“You saved the world, Spike.”

“I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh . . .”

“I was stupid Spike. I didn’t realize I was in love with you until it was too late.”

It took him several seconds for her words to register in his mind but when they did they exploded like a grenade. She just said she . . . she loved . . . a feeling of extreme euphoria washed over him. His slayer said she loved him. No, he must have misheard her. She would never love him . . . 

“What did you say . . .” he choked out.

“I said I’m in love with you Spike.”

Something broke in him at that moment. Buffy loved him. Tears crept into his eyes and his chest heaved painfully as he breathed in deeply. “Buffy . . .”

She took his face in her callused hands once again and looked him straight in the eyes. He felt as though she was peering into every crevice of his being, entering every nook and cranny. Soon she would know his every secret and he didn’t care . . . because she was her and she loved him. She owned him in every way that mattered and he would not have it any other way.

“Slayer . . .” Spike said softly, breathlessly. “I don’t understand . . . you told me . . .”

“I was an idiot Spike. To be fair, I wasn’t in love with you when I told you that stuff. Today . . . in my original timeline, today was the day I fell in love with you, because of everything you did for me and for Dawn, but I was stupid, and it took another two years for me to realize I love you.”

At this point, Spike’s emotions were so confusing he was having trouble holding together a cohesive thought. He choked back a small sob.

“Spike, over the next two years you come through for me again and again . . . You're a friend, a lover, and a confidant. You became my everything Spike . . . and then you died. I didn’t realize until you were burning to death in the mouth of hell but I told you I loved you. I was so cruel, so mean to you for so long that you didn’t believe it. You died believing I didn’t love you Spike, and that makes me hate myself.”

“I . . . I believe you now Buffy. I don’t understand half of what you’re saying luv but I believe you. You're definitely you, you're definitely not the bot, and no way you're lying . . . that would be obvious, because you are a bloody awful liar, so the only option that leaves is that you really do love me. I don’t know how or why but I believe you.”

Buffy smiled sadly at him. “Good . . . because I can’t die again unless I know you know that I love you.”

Spike’s heart nearly burst from his chest at those words. “What?” he nearly shouted as panic welled up inside him.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like what I had to say, Spike. In the future, well things didn’t go so well when I came back. People got hurt, bad things happened, and according to the Powers the world will go to hell . . . literally . . . within a hundred years in that timeline. They sent me back to fix things, Spike. I have to die again and I have to stay dead.”

“No,” he growled at her. “I’m not letting that happen!”

“You don’t get a choice, Spike. From what they told me even if we tried to prevent it I would still die . . . the only way to keep it from happening is dark magic.”

“Then we’ll use it,” Spike said insistently.

“No. Spike I’m meant to die . . . It’s fate. The only way to break fate like that is the blackest magic and that stuff always has consequences. The way the Powers explained it if I don’t die the world ends within the century.”

“Screw the Powers luv! You defy fate all the time. Are you forgetting that?”

“No Spike, I thought about that. And maybe you're right, but the only way we will know if we’ve managed to cheat fate without destroying the world is by trying . . . and if things go wrong, well it will be too late.”

“Buffy . . .” Spike pleaded. “I can’t lose you.”

“You have to Spike.”

“No, we can find a . . .”

Buffy cut Spike off. “No Spike. We can’t. Maybe it’s possible and the Powers are just underestimating us but I’m not willing to take that risk.”

“I don’t understand Buffy. You always fight destiny . . . why is this any different?”

Buffy didn’t say anything for a long minute and when she spoke it was so softly that only a vampire could have heard her. “Because I’m tired . . .”

Suddenly he knew with exactly why she wasn’t willing to fight. He had been right all along. In the end, every slayer had a death wish . . . even her. He hated himself for being right. Buffy should be the first slayer to live to a ripe old age, marry, have kids. She deserved it. It was not fair she was broken down like the others. It wasn’t fair she was so tired and in so much pain that she was ready to die at the ripe old age of twenty-two. But he also knew that if this was it . . . all slayers got to this place eventually. He had seen it time and time again in his century of studying and hunting them. In the end, they all developed a death wish . . . not because they wanted to die but because they were so tired, so broken, so burnt out . . . and once that happened there was no returning from it. They would never know peace in life, their only hope was death . . . and apparently even Buffy . . . the love of his life and the most important thing in his world . . . her deathwish had come for her at last. He wanted to keep arguing with her to fight, screw destiny but he knew that he couldn’t. He didn’t give a damn about the fate of the world or destiny. Buffy and Dawn would be dead in a century anyway. But with Buffy having reached the place all slayers get to in the end . . . there was no way she’d ever be truly happy again. As long as she was here it would just hurt her more. He couldn’t ask that of her. Now that he knew what he knew there was no way he could ask her to fight . . . because that would be no different than asking her to live in hell for him. He might have been a selfish bastard but he loved her and he would never ask her to suffer for him.

  
  


“Spike, please don’t ask me to fight this,” Buffy pleaded. “I’m ready to be done.”

“Okay . . .” Spike whispered, something inside him breaking.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him sadly. “I know it’s cruel to you and I’m so sorry . . . but I just can’t anymore. I needed you to know that I loved you though. I couldn’t die without you knowing that. They were only going to put me back like a second or two before I died, but I asked them to send me back earlier so I could tell you I loved you and so we could have a little time together . . . and to be a couple . . . if you want that I mean.”

Something in Spike’s heart warmed but another piece of it shattered all in that single moment. Buffy was offering him everything he wanted and yet it was laced with sadness because it would all end so soon and so sadly.

Of course, he wanted it but he wasn’t sure he could accept it . . . Not when she was . . . going away so soon. It was tinged with sadness, this idea of being a couple, knowing what was coming . . . but if he rejected her offer he would always regret it. 

“Yeah, Buffy. I would like that.” He paused a minute before asking in a barely audible tone “how long do we have . . .”

Buffy flashed Spike a sad smile. “Twenty-nine days . . .”

Something in Spike broke at those words. “That . . . that isn’t enough time . . .” he choked out with a small sob.

“I know,” Buffy paused. “But it’s what we’ve got.”

“Do you . . . do you know if you're gonna be happy when you get where you're going,” asked Spike abruptly.

“Yeah Spike, I do. When I died last time . . . well I’ve been there before. It was . . . no pain, no fear, no doubt. I didn’t have a body or anything, no form. Time was utterly meaningless. A minute and a thousand years were indistinguishable. My mind was sluggish and slow but despite it all, I was still me. It was happy and peaceful and I was finally free. I knew my loved ones were okay and I was okay also, and I could rest . . . I’ll be happy there Spike. I promise.”

“Okay . . . if you’ll be happy, I can be strong . . . for you.”

“I need you to make me a promise though Spike.”

“What’s that Buffy?”

“I need you to promise to protect Dawnie . . . not just physically but also emotionally. I need you to make sure she always has someone who loves her and is there for her no matter what happens.”

“Of course Buffy. I’ll be there for her till the end of the soddin’ world . . . I promise.”

“I know,” replied Buffy. “In my timeline, you already made and kept that promise.”

Buffy looked at Spike warmly and then leaned in to kiss him. He’d been dreaming about those lips for so long . . . they were warm and soft and delicious and they were hers. This was entirely different and entirely better than Red’s spell induced kisses a year prior. These kisses were real and heartfelt and all Buffy. Spike returned the kiss.

After a moment Buffy pulled back but slid her hand up his thigh towards his zipper. “Spike . . . I know you’re injured and we can’t do much but since you're my boyfriend now, and um we don’t have much time I was wondering if . . . I’d like to give you a gift.” Even sore and injured Spike’s prick shot straight up under Buffy’s lust-filled gaze. 

“I take it, that's a yes?” Buffy giggled.

“Bout as definite a yes as you’ll ever get,” Spike replied. 

Buffy leaned in for another kiss, this one longer, deeper, and fuller. Slowly Spike opened his mouth for her allowing her tongue entrance. As their tongues danced inside Spike’s mouth and then Buffy’s she stripped off his already open shirt being careful not to hurt him. Then breaking the kiss she leaned down to undo his laces and pulled his boots free as gently as she could, her hands skimmed up his legs to his fly to unzip and pull off Spike’s pants. To Buffy’s surprise, he was wearing no underwear.

“Commando?” she asked, surprised.

“Never much fancied wearin’ undies pet,” he said his lips forming the best approximation of his trademark smirk his battered face could manage.

“Naughty” Buffy teased, as she pulled her white sweater over her head revealing a dark black bra. Spike had just begun to take in her beautiful, semi-naked torso (a sight he never thought he would see except for stolen glances while he spied outside her window when she changed) when she unclasped her bra and the straps down her arms, and quickly pulled down her pants as well as revealing a pair of black panties to match her bra that came down as well. 

Buffy was standing before Spike entirely naked and it was entirely because she wanted him. He feasted his eyes on her naked flesh and she was allowing it . . . encouraging it. She didn’t flinch under his gaze, didn’t hide . . . she just smiled at him. Even after all her assurances, Spike searched her face for anger but instead a look of love was there. She really was as in love with him as he was her and at that moment his heart melted and his love grew even deeper still. 

She was a vision . . . her long flowing golden blonde hair, those misty green eyes, rosy cheeks, and full pouty lips . . . that delectable button nose. Her skin a perfect golden tan to go with that wondrous hair . . . small but perfect breasts with those beautiful pert nipples and gorgeous pink areolas . . . the best curves he had seen on a woman . . . long, thin limbs . . . all that on her petite, powerful body. It simply was not possible for a human being to be that beautiful. She must have been a goddess incarnate. It was the only possibility that made any sense. Buffy Summer was a goddess. A golden goddess. His golden goddess.

Spike was so busy enjoying the view he didn’t even realize she had moved until her lips captured his once more and her breasts brushed gently against his chest, her hard nipples poking at his delicate skin. Breaking the kiss she kneeled down and spread his legs with her hands. 

Buffy cupped Spikes balls in one hand and his rock hard cock twitched in anticipation. She darted her tongue out and over the sensitive head. Spike’s world shattered in the best possible way at that moment and all capability for rational thought was lost. Buffy Summers had licked his cock! 

Slowly she slid her tongue down one side of his shaft and then repeated on the other side, before licking a circle down near the base and then repeating the circle for the head of his cock. Then she moved her head lower and sucked one of his balls into her mouth and then the other.

Spike let out a small moan and his cock twitched under the gentle grip of her left hand. Returning both her hands to his balls Buffy sucked as much of Spike’s prick into her throat as she could without gagging, bobbing her head up and down as she swirled and licked with her tongue, gently scraping the skin of his cock with her teeth.

More blood flooded Spike’s cock and the wonderful sensation of Buffy’s hot mouth all around him grew, even as she knelt there naked between his legs, looking up at him and watching his face with those big misty green eyes of hers filled with love and lust in equal measure. 

God how he loved her! She was the perfect woman . . . 

The heat in Spike’s cock grew and he knew he was close to bursting. 

“Buffy I’m almost there,” Spike warned.

Buffy simply blinked in acknowledgement, continuing to work his cock with her mouth and his balls with her hands, and then he came, seed spurting from his cock and into the back of her mouth and throat. Buffy kept working as more spurts of cum came out and his cock gently softened, sucking and licking until she had swallowed all the seed and his prick was entirely clean.

Finally, her mouth left his dick with a quiet pop, and she looked up at him from between his knees a grin on her face.

“You Buffy Summers are a goddess,” Spike told her.

“I love you, Spike,” she responded standing up and placing a kiss on his mouth, some of the saltiness of his seed entering his mouth by way of her tongue. Breaking the kiss Buffy sat next to him on the cold sarcophagus and laid her head on his shoulder. They refused to relinquish their comfortable contact as they readjusted to lay on the smooth stone.

Time froze for Spike at that moment. He only had twenty-nine days to spend with her . . . too worship his golden goddess. He decided then he would memorize this moment and every moment thereafter. It was the hard reality of him being a vampire that ensured when she died they would be separated forever. Even if he died eventually he would go to a hell dimension, whereas she would be in heaven (and Spike would have that no other way) . . . twenty-nine days and he would lose his goddess forever. Lose her, yes, but he would never forget her, never stop loving her, and he would always cherish this perfect month. So he took note of this first of many moments to come this month and committed it to memory so that even when he lost her he would have these few perfect memories to draw strength from.

“I love you Buffy,” Spike said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“I know,” said Buffy. “I was an idiot to ever think otherwise.”

“We only have twenty-nine days Buffy. I’m not ever gonna make it to heaven . . .”

“I know,” she said again, this time with sadness in her tone.

“That’s why we need to make the most out of this one month . . . make it perfect, so we don’t leave anything unfinished, don’t have anything to regret not saying or doing . . .”

Sitting up straight and facing Spike Buffy planted a soft kiss on his lips. 

“Don’t worry William. We’ll make it perfect.”


End file.
